The Doctors, plural
by Jed Rhodes
Summary: All of the Doctors have their moments of heroism, emotion, brilliance, and now, I share some with you.
1. Six

If anyone could have observed the Time Lord known as the Doctor at this particular moment in time, then they would have noticed that he was in an extraordinarily bad mood.

It was Peri's fault, really. She didn't trust him, didn't like him. Didn't think he was worth anything, not as good as his predecessor.

He knew that he was abrasive, arrogant – but he had a right to be, didn't he? Then he smiled. Yes, the best thing to do, he reasoned, was remind her why she travelled. So he began a plan of action.

--

When Peri walked into the console room, dressed in her usual blouse and jeans, the Doctor had made his final alteration. He wearing the same sort of patterned waistcoat he always did, but his top button was undone and he was tieless, and his coat was replaced by a black frock coat, of about the same length and style of his predecessors. His trousers were also black, and he wore a pair of smart shoes as well.

"Madam," he said.

"What's the occasion?" she asked him, slightly acerbic. "Celebrating the birth of your dress sense?"

"A tour," the Doctor smiled, "of some of the most pleasant places this galaxy has to offer."

"Oh?" Peri asked, her interest piqued.

"Starting with a lovely little restaurant..." the Doctor smiled.

--

Six hours later, relatively, after a few more trips, the Doctor and Peri walked back into the TARDIS. The Doctors' coat was gone, his waistcoat missing three buttons and his shoes were scuffed. Peri's clothes were dusty, but apart from that, she was fine.

The Doctor leaned dejectedly on the console, and flicked a switch. It hadn't gone well. The restaurant was fine, but the next trip had been to Paris where the Doctor had been forced to fight a rather unpleasant fellow in a mask at the Opera house. Then a trip to Gendron had been at the unfortunate time when it was invaded by Daleks, and the Doctor had been forced to deal with that as well.

"Oh," he moaned.

"Well that could have gone better," Peri commented.

"That is the biggest understatement made since your ancestors first developed a more complicated language than 'ug'," the Doctor snapped. "And I had it all planned out..."

"What was so important about all these trips, anyway?" Peri asked.

"Well, I wanted to... oh it doesn't matter," the Doctor sighed.

"No, tell me," Peri urged him.

"I wanted you to be happy," the Doctor shrugged. "A few nice trips. A reason for you to stay. Since my regeneration, you've hardly been the most chipper of individuals."

Peri stared at him for a moment, understanding, then she walked up to him and hugged him.

"You big idiot," she smiled. "If I didn't like travelling with you, I wouldn't! You didn't have to go to all this trouble."

The Doctor looked down at her, then smiled.

"So you don't hate me?" he asked.

"No," she grinned. "You're great. I even like that stupid coat."

The Doctor kept smiling, and flicked a switch on the console.

"My dear, I shall take you somewhere truly fascinating," he told her.

She let go, and walked towards the wardrobe.

"What, are you not interested in where we're going?" he asked, his smile faltering. She popped her head back through the door.

"Wherever it is, Doctor, it'll be somewhere where there's loadsa monsters, loadsa villains, and somewhere for you to declaim your brilliance."

He smiled as she left.

"Well," he said, pulling a lever. "With any luck."


	2. Ten

The TARDIS, shortly after Donna Noble left the Doctor.

--

Of course, when one thinks about it, life depends on thinking, feeling, breathing, heart, mind, soul, body, all as one, that is life, and that is how one lives it.

The Doctor does not know if he believes in a soul.

When one considers life, one comes to realise that it depends on change and renewal, new outlooks, changing personality to fit the situation.

He changed a lot. He had been all sorts of people in his time. He still wasn't sure whether he liked them all.

When one considers life, one thinks that it is defined by the company one keeps.

"Behold your Children of Time, transformed into murderers." That is what he remembers.

When one remembers ones' life and how one has lived it, one is drawn to an inexorable conclusion, either one is good or one is evil.

The Doctor does not deal in absolutes. All are equal to him, he offers them all the chance to change their ways.

When one considers life, one learns somehow that it is defined ultimately by death.

He has lived many times. Died many times. He doesn't know how they shall all be remembered when his last life ends, but he knows somehow that he will be remembered. His lives all have lives of their own. His deaths take on new life as their beginning.

And that is how it is now.

The Doctor.

In The TARDIS.

As it was meant to be.

--

The TARDIS, shortly after the Doctor said goodbye to Jackson Lake.

--

He puts his hands in his pockets, and thinks then of Jackson Lake.

When one thinks about it more, when one is not in suh a bad mood, one is defined not by the way one thinks of oneself, but how others see you.

"The Doctor. Simply the Doctor. The one, the only, and the best."

In a world of his kind, where men and women die horrible deaths every day, he got the facts and figures of the Doctors life and somehow made himself a hero.

"What does that say about me?" the Doctor asked. Then he smiled.

He has a journey to begin – he cannot delay.

The journey that is the rest of his life.


	3. Eight

Due to how this turns out, this is an AU.

--

The soldier ducked through a archway and fired his Sten SMG through the gap, before dodging the German return fire and crouching for cover.

It was a relatively quiet day, nothing too dangerous – considering Arnhem was a warzone and they'd been fighting over it for – well, days really.

The soldier was about to move again, when he saw the strangest thing.

A man, dressed in the finest Edwardian-style evening wear, was walking through the rubble. He was young, with long brown hair and a curious smile that greeted everything. Nobody else had noticed him, and therefore they were not shooting at him.

"Ah!" he said, when he saw the soldier. "Hello there! Sorry, I was heading for Nimegen, 1892 and I got a bit lost."

He walked right up to the soldier, and knelt down beside him.

"Nice to meet you," he added. "I'm the Doctor."

The soldier took the proffered hand out of shock more than anything else. He smiled uncertainly.

"A doctor?" he asked.

"The," the Doctor corrected. "The definite article. One, only. Pleasure. Judging by your apparel, you're a British paratrooper."

"Yeah," the soldier told him. "Why are you here?"

"Well, I'm a traveller," the Doctor smiled, "and I got lost. What can I say?"

"Have you noticed the war going on around here?" the soldier asked.

"Hard not to," the Doctor grimaced. "Horrible thing."

"That's an understatement," the soldier said. "Some of my best mates've been murdered by those Jerry bastards..."

"And undoubtedly some of their best mates have been killed by you and your friends," the Doctor snapped, his voice taking on a hitherto unknown sternness. "Both sides are made up of people."

"You jokin'?" the soldier said. "They murder people! You should hear the stuff they've been doin', concentration camps an'..."

"And the British invented Concentration Camps," the Doctor smiled, but his voice was cold steel. "Neither side is made up of all angels it's true, but don't make them devils, when they're something infinitely more complex."

"What?" the soldier asked.

"Human," the Doctor smiled. He stood up, and dusted himself down. "Lovely to meet you, but I'd best be –"

A bullet struck him flat out in the chest, and he spun and fell to the ground with a 'thunk.' The soldier fired his rifle in the general direction of the sniper, then ran to the man's aid. He spun the Doctor around, and was amazed to see him smiling at the sky.

"Typical," he murmured. "Not a monster, not a Dalek, not the Master... a human. A human weapon with a human bullet fired by a human being. Ha, the irony... die as you lived, that's what they always say..."

Then he closed his eyes. The soldier spat on the ground, then yelled to no one in particular – "He was a Doctor, you Jerry swine!" He sighed and slumped to the floor, and looked over at the unfortunate man. Then he did a double take.

The face was glowing white, and little bolts of lightning were striking it. The glow intensified... and then vanished, leaving the face untouched.

Except for the fact that it was a totally different face. Short, cropped hair, beaky nose, big ears. This new man opened his eyes, and looked at the soldier.

"Hello," he grinned, and then sat up, stood up, and dusted himself down. He looked at the soldier, smiled, then shushed him.

The soldier watched as he walked off.

"Doctor!" he called. The man looked at him, quizzical expression on his face. "You're an angel, aren't you?"

"Nope," the Doctor grinned. "I'm just on their side."

And with that, he walked off, leaving the soldier to ponder a day when men changed their faces.

Then the harsh reality sunk in again, and he continued his fight.


	4. Nine

The German sniper ducked back and ran for a different vantage point, trying to leave his conscience behind him. He had hit the civilian, by mistake, because his aim was bad and his hands were shaky, and now he would live with that forever. Still, he would not make the mistake again.

From a different viewpoint, he aimed at the soldier again – but then in his sights he caught a glimpse of the man he had shot.

He was glowing.

"'Ello," came a voice from right next to him. He started, and turned to see a tallish man with short hair, big nose, bigger ears and a leather jacket staring at him with a grin of happiness.

"Who are you?" the sniper asked.

"Him," the man pointed, finger pointed at the glowing man. The sniper looked again as the British soldier yelled – the German soldier could understand a little English, and translated it as – 'he was a Doctor, you German pig'. The sniper felt the worse for it, but then he looked at the glowing man again, as the glow receded.

Obviously the distance impeded his judgement – but lying there, the same nose, the same ears, was the very man standing next to him.

"Mein Gott," he murmured. "What are you?" he asked the man sitting next to him. "A devil, helping Germany's enemies?"

"Nah," the man said.

"An angel then?" the sniper asked. "This is pretty damn magnificent, this. A man dies and comes back...?"

A strange thought struck him.

"Are you God?" he asked. The man grinned a laughed again.

"Nah," he said. "God doesn't take sides."

"And you do?" the sniper asked. "Their side?"

"Here? Humanities," the man told him. "I'm a doctor. The Doctor. Definite article."

"So it is true," the sniper said. "I killed a doctor..."

"Excuse me," the Doctor said, pointing at himself. "Alive."

"But..." the sniper said, but thought better about it. "Why are you here?"

"Wrong turn," the Doctor told him. "Again. Can't believe it, should have turned left at Albuquerque..."

"Where?" the sniper asked.

"Never mind," the Doctor said. "But then I realise I'm in the same place... well, the same place I am," he finished, pointing a finger at himself, "and I thought I could meet you."

"Why would you want to meet me?" the sniper asked.

"Because you're the other side," the Doctor said. "Tell me, what do you think of your enemies?"

The sniper was about to launch into the propaganda, recited ad nauseum from countless posters and leaflets, but then realised that this man wasn't interested in that. So he told the truth.

"They're men," the sniper said. "Like we're men. Both caught up in this horror."

"An' who's right?" the Doctor asked.

"Neither of us," the sniper said. "And both of us. We think we're right and they think they're right."

The sniper watched the Doctor's reaction. At first he was silent and expressionless, but then he smiled.

"That's very good, very well thought out," he said. "Well done."

"Thanks," the sniper said.

"Hope you survive," the Doctor smiled. Then he stood up.

"Don't you know?" the sniper asked.

"Nah, don't be silly," the Doctor smiled. "I don't know everything, an' I wouldn't want to. Be boring that way."

"I suppose," the sniper said, and then he smiled. "Farewell, Doctor."

"Bye bye," the Doctor smiled, and then he was gone.

Three days later, the sniper was killed by a grenade.

--

"Where were you?" Rose asked the Doctor when he got back to the TARDIS.

"Lookin' up an' old mate," the Doctor replied tersely. "Anyway, we were headin for Diantorie, weren't we...?"


	5. Three

The man walked slowly up the podium. The year was 2019, and the place was the funeral given to Mrs Josephine Jones. She was a woman who had been dedicated all her life to peace. Others had gone on about how marvellous she was at bringing joy into peoples' lives. About how her work had helped countless others. But this man, this sad looking man in the velvet smoking jacket and the ruffled shirt, the cape, and the bow tie – what could he possibly say?

When he did finally speak, after a long moments silence, his remarks were addressed to Jo herself.

"I don't understand why I felt the way I did about you," he said, a slight lisp and an upper class accent coming out. "You were hardly the most intelligent, the bravest, the wittiest, the nicest or the most remarkable specimen of your species. You introduced yourself to me by ruining an important experiment. But… somewhere along the line, something happened to me that ought not to have. I felt… something I ought not to have, something I hadn't in so many years."

He paused, and a tear dripped down his face.

"It's funny that I could easily have told you this before. I could have told you when you left me. When you were young. But… oh, I dunno."

He rubbed his nose, and sighed, then put a hand on his cheek and smiled.

"A tear," he mumbled into the mike. "Oh, my dear Jo. I'm so sorry I never told you. But you were happy, were you not? You lived well, and long. I only regret that I never saw it – but I always have time."

He lowered his head as another tear fell.

"Time," he murmured again. "I loved you, Jo. Goodbye."

And then he strode down the steps of the podium, and left, never to be seen again


	6. Five

Annie Daniels ran as fast as she could, hoping desperately not to die. Behind her, three large creatures, human apart from their long necks, ran, aiming big guns at her. She didn't even know what she had done.

She was sixteen, and had gone down to the old abandoned warehouse in her home city of London to have a fag (always good). That was when these weird people had appeared, wielding massive lasers – they had seen her and she had had to leg it. She ran faster and faster and faster, but even with those guns, they were catching up with her.

Suddenly, she banged headlong into a man. She flew off and landed on her front with a typical 'oof!', and so did he.

"Oh, bugger," she muttered. She tried to get back up but her body decided that getting up was too strenuous. "C'mon…"

"Terribly sorry," the man said, standing over her and holding his hand out to help her up. She grabbed it, and it brought her face to face with him; tall, blonde, pleasant, open face, white cricketing gear, green bands on his cricket jumper, plain white cricket trousers, Adidas sports trainers with the logo painted over inexpertly. Black frock coat.

"You're a weirdo," she told him. He looked hurt and looked down at the ensemble.

"No," he said. "This coat isn't really me though. Tegan just told me I needed to wear different clothes once in a while, so I tried to… I just ended up with this different version of what I usually wear and – sorry, I'm babbling," he finished at the annoyed look on her face.

"Yeah," she said. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm running from-"

"Them," he finished, looking over her shoulder. She spun, and the long necked guys were looking at them.

"Surrender the girl," they said.

"I don't think we've been introduced," the man smiled, ignoring the guns and the threatening tone. "I'm the Doctor."

He held his hand out. They ignored it.

"Surrender the girl," they said again.

"Why?" the Doctor asked.

"She's seen too much," one of the creatures said.

"Too much of what?" the Doctor asked.

"No more questions," the creature said. "Give her to us."

The Doctor raised one eyebrow above the other, and smiled.

"Not before you tell me who you are and what you want," he told them.

"Fine," the creature said. "We're Krillitanes, she saw us doing something she shouldn't have seen. Now give her to us!"

The Doctor grabbed Annie's arm, and grinned.

"Certainly," he began, but then he threw a cricket ball at them. "Duck," he advised Annie.

Then a bright light blinded her, and she felt herself being pulled down. Then when she could see again, the Doctor was brushing his coat off.

"You know," he said, "I really think that was quite well handled."

"What was?" Annie asked.

"Oh, all that," the Doctor said, waving his hand and going 'pfft'. "I teleported the whole Krillitane population to the Judoon ship waiting above the Earth, while their factory just got vaporised. Funny that."

"How.. who are you?" Annie demanded.

"The Doctor," the Doctor smiled. "And now, I'm off. Pleasure meeting you, and one more thing;" he added, before walking off. "These," he said, holding up her pack of cigarettes, "will kill you. Trust me on that."

Then he was gone, coat flapping as he walked. Annie shook her head as if aking from a dream, and headed home. No more cigs. They seriously messed with your head…

--

In the TARDIS, Adric looked up as the Doctor entered.

"Anything interesting?" he asked hopefully.

"Oh, no," the Doctor smiled. "Nothing, just barren wasteland."

"I thought you said it was Earth," Tegan piped up."

"Yes, that's what I said," the Doctor sighed. "Wrong era. Shall I try again? Of course," he added, holding up a hand to stave off another rant from Tegan. "Here we go."

He flipped the dematerialisation switch…


	7. Seven

"What is it with that jumper?" Ace asked. The Doctor, in brown coat, white shirt, checked trousers and _that _pullover, grimaced.

"No really though, Professor, why do you wear that?" Ace asked. The Doctor ignored her and flicked a switch. Then he smiled.

"Do you want to know why?" he asked. "Do you really want to know why?"

"Yeah," Ace said, leaning forward eagerly. The Doctor grinned, and flipped a lever…

--

The First Doctor and Susan were in a lovely little street on Shan Shen, when the Seventh Doctor and Ace crept up to watch them.

"Ah yes," they heard the First Doctor say. "I am the Doctor, and this is my Granddaughter Susan."

"Doctor Who?" the market-stall owner asked him. Ace looked at her Doctor, who smiled.

"The first time anyone asked me," he explained. "It starts here."

--

The Third Doctor was not a happy bunny. He'd been dragged to this concert by his companion Jo, and was only here because he had little better to do (this being a week when he was sulking about the TARDIS not working rather than doing something about it).

Then the Who came on. He watched them, and people kept screaming, but he only raised his eyebrows. When Jo asked him exactly what he had thought, he only said one thing.

"Quite good."

--

_"Of course, people kept asking that question – Doctor Who? So eventually, I decided to add to that air… and there was my growing appreciation for the band to consider."_

--

The Fourth Doctor looked through his wardrobe, looking for the perfect shirt. He just could not find it, and it was getting him down. Then, he came across a big-collared white shirt, with red question marks on the collar. He thought about why they were there, then smiled at a memory.

#People try to put us d-down, talkin' 'bout my generation, Just because we get around, talkin' 'bout my generation..."

Then he picked the shirt off – yes, perfect. Doctor _Who_…

--

Then the Seventh Doctor took Ace somewhere very special. He took her to a concert.

A very important concert, he said. A Tribute act concert, he said, in the year 2902. Then he told her to wait in the front row. She found herself sitting next to a man wearing a white cricketing jumper, fawn frock coat and stripy trousers, and a young guy in a school uniform. The stadium was packed full of thousands of people, as the Doctor had said, but Ace got a feeling she knew this one bloke. Then she saw his collar.

Then, to her immense shock, the Doctor was up on stage, and he was wielding a massive guitar, and tuning it. Then, to complete the picture, he winked. He was wearing _that _jumper. With him were a couple of young men, who obviously were quite freaked out by his apparel, but appeared to ignore it.

Then the music started.

"#People try to put us d-down," sang the Doctor.

"#Talkin' 'bout my generation," the boys replied.

"#Just because we get around."

"#Talkin' 'bout my generation."

"#Things they do look awful c-c-cold."

"#Talkin' 'bout my generation."

"#I hope I die before I get old."

"#Talkin' 'bout my generation."

Then the Doctor slammed the guitar; "This is my _re_generation, this is my _re_generation, baby…"

Ace covered her eyes and laughed at the cheering.

--

The Doctor was totally unabashed.

"I liked the jumper when I saw it on stage," he said to her, as she gave him a querying look, "and reasoned I should have to find something like that again."

"You just had to interfere, didn't ya?" she asked, grinning.

"Oh yes," he smiled back. "It's me you're talking to."


	8. Four

"Doctor," Romana said, using her traditional 'exasperated' tone.

"I simply refuse," he snapped at her, facing the roundeled wall. "I will not countenance it."

"You have to," Romana chided him. "It's the same thing every decade and you always complain about it, but you always give in. Why fight the inevitable?"

"Nothing is inevitable," the Doctor snapped. "Haven't I proven that countless times? 'My victory is certain,' all these maniacs say, 'I'm going to conquer the universe,' all these lunatics say. Then what happens? I beat them. Inevitable."

"Nothing is inevitable, you said," Romana pointed out.

"I changed my mind," the Doctor pouted, "but I am still definitely not going."

"Doctor," Romana said, "may I remind you that you picked this Dentist yourself. He gave you your fillings."

"I know that," the Doctor snapped. "But I'm still not going."

"Probability that you will attend your Dentist appointment 97.3 to1, Master," K-9 put in."

"Oh shut up K-9," the Doctor snapped. Then he looked at Romana, who was glaring at him, angrily. "Oh alright then! But this is the last time and I get two bags of jelly babies…"

And, sulking, he flipped a switch. Romana sighed – every decade alike…

--

"And one more thing, before anything else," the Doctor added, after having reeled off a long list of rules to Adric upon their return to N-space. "Absolutely. No. Dentistry."

Adric raised an eyebrow, confused. Dentistry…?

"What's a Dentist?" he asked.

"Never mind," the Doctor said. "Now then, Oxeveguramosa…"


	9. Seven 2

Ace and the Doctor watched as an Empire fell around them. They watched as a fell Tyrant was defeated by a noble act of self sacrifice, and a young man was redeemed, as a dark suppresive regime was forever defeted, and peace came to the galaxy.

Ace watched the brilliant show, enraptured, but the Doctor looked merely bored, as one who has seen this same sight a thousand times over.

When the celebrating was over, and the music started, they walked away.

"What's with the long face, Professor?" Ace asked him.

"I dunno," the Doctor replied. "It's not a patch on the original."

As they entered the TARDIS, the massive poster behind them – 'Star Wars Episode VI, Return of the Jedi – The Remake!' – glittered faintly in the darkness.

"Could've been worse," he finished, standing on the threshold. "MAybe we'll hgo see a _real_ empire toppled, eh...?"

Then he went inside, and a moment later, the TARDIS vanished.


	10. Two

The Planet Cavnatia.

--

Voltran was happy.

As dictators with plans to conquer whole universe went, he felt he had been pretty successful. He had taken complete control of his world, then taken on the task of building a spacefleet to conquer the universe. The Allied starfleets of his foes were a threat, but now his deadly Red Dwarf device was about to atomise them.

All in all, he was quite happy. So he decided to give a manic evil laugh, for no other reason than he though it would be nice.

"Muhahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!" he bellowed.

"Oh, I say, that's a bit loud, isn't it?" a new, unfamiliar voice came from behind him. He spun – and found himself facing a short man in a shabby black frock coat, blue shirt and black pants. The man was smiling at him, hlding a recorder limply in one hand.

"Who are you?!" bellowed Voltran, angrily, his tone imperious.

"The Doctor," the little man replied in a pitch perfect mockery of Voltrans tone, before dissolving into a laughing fit. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry, but you are quite hilarious…"

Voltrans façade dissolved in a moment.

"What makes you say that?" he asked.

"Well, you're a cliché," the Doctor grinned at him. "I'm sorry old chap, but every madman dictator and his wife is called Voltran or Zoltan or Bartron or some such ridiculous name.

"Well," Voltran said, before he could stop himself (haaving not had a real conversation for a while – people were too scared of him). "I thought it sounded a little more impressive than my real name."

"Oh, and what was that?" the Doctor asked, innocently.

Voltran mumbled something inaudible.

"I'm sorry?" the Doctor asked.

"Bob," Voltran murmured. The Doctor looked incredulous for a moment, and Voltran – Bob – thought he was going to laugh, but then he merely nodded solemnly.

"I see," he said, his voice more serious, and more kindly. "Why did you become a dictator?" he asked after a moments thought.

"Well," Bob said. "I thought the system didn't work – and the politicians were all wrong. Nobody listened to just plain Bob, So I became Voltran and entered Politics. Won an election, became President of my state."

"And then?" the Doctor asked.

"Got rid of all the other politicians," Bob nodded. "Gave them tidy packages. Then I gathered an army, researched weapons and read leadership manuals and before I knew it, I ruled my world. there's no crime here, Doctor," he added. "No poverty. I'm not half bad."

"I suppose not," the Doctor said. "But this Red Dwarf device…?"

"Well, the Allied Worlds don't like me," Bob said. "They say I murder political opponents and imprison people unjustly."

"And do you?"

"Well, I round up dangerous dissidents," Bob said. "There was this one guy called John Smith, he lead a resistance movement a couple of days ago – he'd have upset the whole Empire. Said I was a tyrant. So I… well. Tried to have him wiped out. Succeeded too."

"Do you think?" the Doctor smiled.

"Yeah," the dictator grinned. "Idiot hid in a shed when my guards came for him, and I blew it up with Zaktronic warheads."

"A blue shed?" the Doctor asked.

"Yes," Bob said, but then he paused. "Why?"

The Doctor grinned apologetically, and stepped back, The blue shed was standing right there. Bob looked at the Doctor. The Doctor looked over Bobs shoulder. Bob looked behind him.

His Red Dwarf device was deactivated, and dented in places as well, as if someone had been hitting it. A young man in a kilt and a girl in a silver jumpsuit were standing there with looks of immense pride in themselves.

"That ok, Doctor?" the man asked.

"Quite alright, Jamie," the Doctor said. e turned to a flabbergasted Bob.

"The Allies are on their way to arrest you, I'm sorry to say – you really have been quite naughty," he scolded. "A little advice – next time, don't name your weapon of ultimarte power after a 1980's Earth sitcom. Toodle pip!"

He walked off, his friends following. Bob stood there, shocked and amazed.

"Oh my giddy aunt," he said. Then he sat down and waited for the authorities.

* * *


	11. One

One.

--

The Doctor flicked another contrl on the console of his machine.

Ian Chesterton was alone in the console with him, the girls having gone off to explore. Barbera had dared him to ask the question he was about to ask, and he intended t rise to the challenge - even if it was a little scary to do so.

"Doctor," he asked, summoning his resolve, "do you mind if I ask…"

"Yes?" the Doctor snapped, knocking all that resolve away again. Ian gathered his courage once more, before asking the most difficult question he could.

"Who are you?" Ian said, bluntly. "Barbera and I... we've been travelling with you for quite some time, and we still don't know anything about you."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow, and then, to Ian's surprise, he smiled warmly.

"That is a complicated question," he said. "I am from a small planet near galactic centre. You wouldn't have heard of it. It isn't very interesting, to be honest."

"So…?" Ian prompted, after a moment.

"Hm? What? Oh yes… well, I… spoke out, against our culture – it's a very… insular, society," the Doctor smiled. "We're very deicated to keeping ourselves to ourselves. I spoke out against it, and for that, I was cast down from the point in society I had been in – forced to resign you might say – so I left, taking the TARDIS with me. And Susan of course."

He smiled, and leaned against the console.

"One day," he said, "I shall return to Gall – to home," he finished. "One day, I shall share the wonder I have seen, but… not yet. Not yet."

And, laughing, he returned to work ,leaving Ian shaking his head at this strange old man…


	12. Ten 2

Ten Two.

--

"Have I ever mentioned that I hate you?" she asked, after one particularly irritating adventure.

The Doctor sighed, and flicked another switch on the console. He'd heard this before.

"No really," Martha said, annoyed. "You just swan off without me all the time, get yourself in trouble and expect me to rescue you."

"Well of course I do," the Doctor pointed out. "I trust you to do something clever."

"You trust me?" Martha said. "Well, that's new."

"No, really!" the Doctor assured her. "I trust you implicitly. One day, I promise you, you'll know just how much I trust you. I promise…"

--

John Smith looked up as Martha entered his room, smiling.

"I brought you your breakfast and a paper, sir," she said. John smiled.

"You know, Martha," he said, grinning. "I trust you. I'm not sure why, but I do."

"Yes sir," Martha smiled back. "I know sir."


	13. Eight Two

Eight Two.

"_#The boy with the thorn in his side..."_

The Doctor sat back, his long hair flowing over the edge of the seat, his favourite copy of 'The Time Machine' on his lap, a contented smile on his face, eyes closed. The music was quiet and unobtrusive, and it didn't stop the Doctor from having a nap.

"Y'know," a male voice came from the direction of the console, "you might try just flying the TARDIS?"

"Doesn't need it," the Doctor smiled, opening his eyes and looking in Fitz's direction. "I've set her on specific coordinates, she knows where to go. Should be quite fun."

"'Fun' won't quite cover another encounter with the Cybermen," Fitz said, sighing, leaning on the console, and rolling his eyes. The Doctor sighed and stood up, before walking over to him.

"Look, trust me, Barcelona is reputed to be the best planet on the entire western edge of the universe," he said, showing Fitz the coordinates. "It will be _fun!_ I promise!"

"Fun?!" Fitz said. "Are you sure?!"

"They have plenty of bars, don't worry," the Doctor said, patting Fitz's shoulder. Fitz brightened at once.

"And women?"

"Yes, women."

Fitz grinned, and ran for his room, before turning back to the Doctor.

"How long 'til we get there?"

"An hour, relative time," the Doctor smiled. Fitz grinned and ran off. The Doctor sighed, and leaned on the console – he decided not to mention that the women would all be six foot three and purple.


	14. The 'Next' Doctor

_**The 'Next' Doctor.**_

He straightened his cravat, and smiled. Black coat, blue waistcoat, black trousers, silver cravat. Perfect.

"I think, Rosita, we'll be able to pass," he said. She raised an eyebrow, and looked down at her slight over-fancy dress in a horrid shade of pink. "Oh don't worry, you look fine," he added, at her face. "Now come on!"

He bounced out of the barn door, Rosita trailing behind him, looking more than a little annoyed.

"Remind me why we have to go to this bloody party?" Rosita asked.

"Just this – this party is where all the socialites of London are going," the Doctor explained. "If any of them serve the Cybermen, we'll soon find out!"

"But it's three weeks 'til Christmas," Rosita said, pleading. "Even the Cybermen must value Christmas..."

"They have no souls," the Doctor said sternly. "To the Cybermen, Christmas is just another day to do their evil on."

He smiled, and held out his arm.

"But, Miss Rosita, tonight, let us not concern ourselves too greatly with Cybermen – let us," he finished, leading her into the night, towards an evening of civilised company and partying, "enjoy ourselves."


	15. Ten & Eleven

**_Ten/Eleven_**

He didn't want to go.

He had visited them all and knew that they were all alright. All doing good. He accepted that happily.

But that he had to go was a price he considered too heavy. He was a unique being. Yes, his memories and little bits of him would go on forever, but the core of him - that cool, suited and conversed, babbling, gabbling, mile a minute man that he was... would simply cease to be.

He knew he had no choice, that death, that inevitable occurrence, would claim this body, and he would be reborn as a new man. But he didn't have to accept it. He would not go quietly into the night. He would not vanish without a fight.

Quoting movies. He did that.

And it was cool.

* * *

And so he was born, born in fire: his past self burning his home and saying, "I will be remembered".

"You know, next time I'll just leave a note," the Eleventh Doctor said, pushing another button in a desperate attempt to stabilise. He flicked another switch, and the TARDIS bucked, nearly throwing him out of the door... 


End file.
